Message-ID: <703eli$9705051434@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: Path: qz!news.accessus.net!not-for-mail X-Path-Preload: news.accessus.net preloaded to thwart rogue canceller there Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: From: ROLLER666@aol.com Subject: FUCK DECENCY 259 Cunt Castle (nnd) Who Needs Jesus? WHAT A FRIEND WE HAVE IN PORNO... Andrew Roller Presents FUCK DECENCY Issue No. 259 Naughty Naked Dreamgirls in Cunt Castle Chapter Three "Alright," Rose said, seeing I would not obey. She withdrew the cup and took up a martinet. It's stiff, water soaked cords would show me no mercy. It had lain waiting, hidden, within the pot of brine. It was not very large or long. It did not need to be. "Oh, let me do it!" Bambi begged. As if in answer Louis, who had escaped my eyes and circled round the bed, grabbed her from behind and pushed her face down into the sheets. There was nothing to undo or untie. She wore her playsuit, but her triangles were undone. The rest was just lace trimming. He unzipped himself. Seeing she was undone, Bambi balled her fist and pushed it between her teeth. Louis presented his cock to her cunt lips and nudged them apart with his blue-stemming cockhead. Suddenly he was in her, and Bambi gasped at the immediacy of his entry. She seemed to have trouble taking him for a moment, he was so swift, so hard. A cry escaped her throat. When he was fully lodged, Louis began reaming Bambi with slow, deliberate strokes. Rose, for her part, took to whacking my bottom with the martinet. I felt the salt ooze from the stick with each cracking blow of it upon my heinie. I was in agony. I danced upon the bed, kicked back at her, was rewarded with a yet more deliberate blow. She went easy, striking me playfully, but the martinet is an awful instrument and it does not take much from its cords to make a girl's bottom surrender itself. Brazenly my cheeks oscillated within a tight circle, moving constantly now, offering themselves, showing my fleshy hemispheres as if they were baubles at some crude market fair. I flexed them and shook them. I squeezed them and pushed them out toward Rose, hoping perhaps to bang her in the face with my bottom. For her part she kept applying the martinet, each stroke carefully aimed, laid on with precision, her bosoms lifting and falling and jostling with her every wrist-swinging sweep of the stick. In a sudden shamelessness, not even waiting for the teacup, I peed upon the sheets of my bed. "Oh, look!" A female cried, pointing at me. They all watched with fascination in their eyes. "Yes," Rose hissed, and she gave me another ass-biting stroke of the martinet, even as I offered my water to her. A big stain grew beneath me and I thought of my mother. She seemed so loving and caring now. She had wanted to protect me, yet here I was, showing off my ass like some long lost treasure and peeing out my golden stream. Bambi moaned by my knees as Louis hammered her with his cock. As I peed, he spurted his sperm into her. We both went together, as it were, me on the pristine bed and he within the youthfully clutching lips of her cunt. There was a round of applause. Indiscreetly Rose lifted her skirt and put her hand beneath herself and masturbated her cunt. With her free hand she gave me another blow from the martinet, then another, trying to restrain herself but feeling ever more lusty by the moment. She screamed out as she came quickly to orgasm, jamming her fingers within herself. She swung her fist in again toward me, holding the martinet, but lost her grip on it suddenly, hitting me only with her bare hand. Weeping with pleasure she collapsed against my fanny. Her salty tears flowed over my damaged flesh, doing me no good at all, but she must have thought she was helping me for she cried freely against my heinie, rubbing her wet cheeks against me, and finally she kissed me with her lips. Louis found he had more sperm to offer. Withdrawing his newly spurted prick from Bambi, he got up on the bed and poked himself into Rose. She ground her face into my ass as he pushed his rod up inside her. They went at it, she licking my bottom while he reamed her well, giving her long and deeply penetrating strokes as if he'd lost nothing in Bambi. The guests in my room helped Bambi up from the bed. Two women embraced her and kissed her. As Rose laved my bottom with her tongue, tracing my welt, kissing my cheeks, Louis behind her, the crowd undressed and took to the floor for fucking. All around me sounds of passion and love began to arise, as in the distance I saw the first fleeting glimpses of sunlight. Polly's screams had faded. Amidst the moans and cries of my guests the birds outside began to chirp. They saw the sun and awakened to it, even as we ourselves were working our way toward sleep. It consoled me to know that the rug burns on my guests would be intense. Their bottoms would hurt like mine did, though not as much, but some, and that was enough. I let my tears flow freely down my cheeks and I tongued my gag. Its balled firmness remained wedged between my teeth, filling my mouth, making me feel like a pony harnessed for a morning ride. At last the sun shone brightly through the window and, like vampires retreating from it, to await the new moon, we were done. Rose gently detached me from the pillar and my gag. She undid my wrists. Drawing my arms out, she flexed them for me. I was too weak, too overwhelmed. I was limp in her arms. I smelled sperm and saw she'd been well-fucked by Louis. His essence ran down the insides of her thighs. I was laid down in my bed. The wet spot loomed beneath me but I did not care. The sheets were crisp and difficult against my bottom, despite their handwoven softness. The wet spot touched my back only, from my shoulders down to the lowest part of my waist. My bottom had a dry perch, but I could not stand it, and I rolled over onto my tummy to escape the stinging of my soft bed. I let my bottom expose itself to the cool morning air. I raised it up, pulling my knees toward me a little. I felt the comforting softness of my pillow beneath my face and wished so much that I could rest my bottom on the consoling silkiness of my bed, but it was not possible. "Oh, she wants more!" the young girl, rising and dressing, commented. She simply did not understand. The guests bustled about now, reclothing themselves. All was quick kisses and brief words of goodbye as the sun flooded the room. Passionate lovers who had kissed deeply into each other's throats passed away from each other with only the slightest acknowledgement. They were like passersby on the street now, each going their own separate way. Women who had joined together and brought each other to frenzied bliss parted company, hardly speaking, not caring. Men who had swapped wives let go of their new loves like children tossing away ice cream cones after licking out all the cream. Suited up, dressed again, their breasts and cunnies and loins tucked away, the guests departed. I heard them start their cars a few minutes later down in the parking lot that lay alongside the castle. All was done, all was gone. Rose drew the curtains to keep the sun off my bottom. Taking Louis' hand, they left the room and locked the door behind them. I sobbed into my pillow and felt the cool morning breeze filter through my curtains and play across my heinie. I had received. I had been good. Louis would love me forever, I told myself, and I fell quickly asleep. When I woke up I was startled to feel such hot pain in my bottom. Then I remembered. I looked up. The post was still there. Rose had not bothered to retract it. I groaned as I tried to get up. My bottom was flaring, a deep-seated ball of glowing heat. Yet somehow, within its tenderness, I felt a sexiness. I was aware of myself as never before. I was new somehow. I kneed my way to the edge of my bed and got down from it. I felt the soft fur of the rug as it impressed itself between my toes. I walked to a mirror and turned around. "Ah!" I cried as I looked at myself. My lightly tanned flesh, with my white boobs hanging like young fruit from my ribs, was perfect. Except in one place. And that was my bottom. There, my untanned flesh, so dearly protected from the sun to make me look sexy without my clothes on, was bright red. It was as if someone had drawn an intricate road map across my hemispheres. Not a street had been left out. All over my white ass I saw many little lines, each giving my delicate bottom an overall appearance of being like a well-stitched tomato, more red than white now, but with a little white showing through here and there to remind me of what I once was. God, I had gotten it good, much worse than at abandon gardens. Had Polly suffered the same? Would we be the twins of tortured bottoms? Shivering, I let go of my hind cheeks and wrapped my arms around myself. I felt my bosoms bulbing within my arms, protesting, wanting to hang free. I took myself to the bathroom. I walked like a wounded soldier, walking wounded, tip-toeing across the rug, so afraid for my heinie, yet somehow happy within myself. I had obeyed Louis. I would claim him now as my own. I drew back the shower curtain and stepped into the tub. I did not know whether to stand or sit. Finally I turned on the water and just stood under it. I felt like an abandoned kitten, my blonde hair streaming down under the shower, sticking to me in its wetness. For a long time I just stood and felt the cool lukewarm water of the shower run down over my bottom. I was alone. I did not want to be alone. I wanted to be with others. I could not bear this loneliness. Where were Joanne and Sylvia? I deserved their attention now. Perhaps I had awakened sooner than they thought I would. What time was it? I did not know. Finally I stepped from the shower and dried myself. Where was everybody? Why were they not here to celebrate my return to the living? Where was Louis? He should kiss me and bathe me in the morning, not leave me to wash myself like some cheap whore done with her night of tricks. I walked out into my bedroom, feeling my bottom joggle boldly behind me, all red and tortured and making me walk with exaggerated movements of my ass. I fished out a bikini from the dresser. I tied on the top, checking it in a mirror. I dared not wear the panties. But I tossed them over my shoulder just in case. Who knows? Somebody downstairs might have a whip and decide mine was the perfect ass to apply it to. I came down the front staircase with my hair all brushed and glowing with luminous blondness, my makeup perfect, my lipstick red and inviting. I wore my bikini top. My panties were slung over my shoulder. My bush, necessarily, was bared to whomever might greet me. And there, within the parlor, just looking up now to see me, was Rose. She had older women with her. They were dressed primly, as if at some neighborhood meeting, or some vanguard discussion group for school reform. Feeling a little like one of their daughters, though, thank God, I did not see my mother there or any of her friends, I sauntered as unselfconsciously as I could down the rest of the stairs and, hoping to reach the pool, through the parlor, for that was the shortest way. I was gazed at by all the ladies. They were twice my age. Had they been like me once? I did not try to hide my bush. I let my bush and my cunny show as freely as if I were onstage at Las Vegas. I walked with my back erect, my young breasts lifted high. Only my bottom remained undisciplined, waggling excessively, due to my whipping. As I passed through them, trying to ignore them, I felt their eyes paste themselves upon my bottom as its clenching cheeks came into view. They gasped at my marks. I put my hands instinctively behind myself to cover up my cheeks but I winced when my palms touched them. I had to draw my hands away and let them see me there, with all my burny marks. I made it past them and into the next room, then through the next, and out a side door to the pool. I saw Polly splashing in it. She looked like a little dolphin. As I drew close she greeted me happily and then dove beneath the waters, sticking her bottom up as her head went down. Oh! They had done her too, just like me, but the waters were cooling her ass for her and letting her absorb the pain and accept it. Quickly, tossing my panties aside, I stepped to the edge of the pool and waded into it. Descending a flight of tiled steps I let the water rise up and take me. Ah, it was chilly, but so comforting against my ass! I turned my head and saw Louis and Andre lounging nearby, in bathrobes. It was still morning, eleven o'clock perhaps. Andre was eating a brunch served to him by Maria and Louis was dressed in a silk bathrobe, smoking a pipe. He looked up from a newspaper in his lap, gazed at me, then returned to the sports page. I did not mind. I loved him. I would keep him forever, just as he kept me. I paddled out into the water and joined Polly. She took possession of a beach ball floating aimlessly on the water. We stood in the shallow end and, letting our breasts hang free to entertain the men, our tops discarded and floating away from us on the surface of the pool, we passed the big beach ball back and forth to each other, volley-ball style, batting it back and forth as our titties joggled in their fullness and I felt the tips of mine grow hard. Later, as the sun reached its zenith, Andre and Louis cast off their robes. They entered the pool and took Polly and I from behind. Despite the roughness of their prickly hairy skin against my bottom, I felt soothed somehow. Polly and I kissed and tongued each other's mouths as the men did us in the shallow end, bending us forward like puppies being given enemas, making us feel them within ourselves. When they spurted, Polly and I cried out together, breathing into each other's mouths, clutching at each other's tits. I felt her nipples pricking my palms and I squished her breasts in my hands, feeling their youthful resilience, and she handled mine just as freely. When we'd been spermed Polly and I got out of the pool. The men laid out soft towels for us on reclining chaise lounges. We sat down happily, wincing and crying at first, but finally accommodating ourselves to our new state, sinking our bottoms into the towels and welcoming the attention of the men. Not satisfied with having done us in the pool, they each placed their cocks in our mouths. Polly and I sucked on them as Maria laid out brunch for us. We were spermed again. After they were done Polly and I wiped our mouths with napkins and then, feeling silly and decadent, we ate our brunch lying back in our chairs, feeding our eggs and sausages into our sperm-soaked mouths. Our titties wobbled freely, uncovered in the sun. We would be tanned there, but I didn't care. Let the sun brown my breasts a little. I would surprise my mother with an all-over tan. Polly and I ate lustily. We were hungry from our night's play. The men watched us, mesmerized. We were just schoolgirls, yet here we were, soaking up the sun and loving life and letting them do as they pleased with us. Out of the corner of my eye I saw their cocks grow anew. They were excited by us, and we by them. As soon as Polly and I were done we got up from our chairs. The men stood, expectantly, their cocks stemming at us with renewed vigor. "What now?" I asked Louis as I drew close to him. My fingers touched his cock. I let them play upon it. I touched his pee slit. We did not kiss, or embrace. Not yet. He ran his fingers over my breasts and my belly. "You are truly beautiful," he said to me. "Why, thank you, Louis," I replied. Polly and Andre negotiated with similar words, touching, exploring, finding each other as fresh and new as when we'd first met. But my bottom, and Polly's, promised that we'd be submissive. 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(temptation1c) -Recent back issues at Usenet newsgroup: alt.poop? -For all back issues, send e-mail to: file.request@backdrop.com -Fuck Decency: http://members.aol.com/nnd6/fuckdecency.html -Free minicomics: send a stamped, self-addressed envelope & age statement to: Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868 -Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1997 and a trademark of Andrew Roller. Work by others copyright 1997 by the respective copyright holder. -END OF 259 EMISSION -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /